


Uncrowned

by A_Random_NPC



Series: Voidsinger [14]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Random_NPC/pseuds/A_Random_NPC
Summary: Sinnlyra Voidsinger has finally made the move to her old residence in Dalaran, and has a business discussion that could change the course of her future.
Series: Voidsinger [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796173
Kudos: 2





	Uncrowned

**Author's Note:**

> Tyrvalin Duskmourn and Sevarith Moonsorrow belong to @Vaethryn on Twitter! Artwork of them can be found here: https://twitter.com/vaethryn
> 
> I now have a Refsheet for Sinnlyra, please feel free to check it out: https://refsheet.net/A_Random_NPC/SinnlyraVoidsinger
> 
> This story is being told in a combination of in game role play and through my writing. RP will not be translated into fanfiction, so some details may be lost or glossed over.

“You gonna tell me what all this is about?” Tyr asked. He was inspecting the newly renovated and respelled windows of her home to ensure no ‘unsavory types’ would be able to gain access, though they both knew it was really to see what he’d need to bypass the new security measures to come and go as he pleased. Lyra smiled at him from where she sat at her embroidery hoop before the fireplace and replied sweetly,

“No, love, but I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough from Sev.” He grinned at her from over his shoulder and rapped at the thick windowpane with a knuckle, his ears twitching as he listened to the reverberations in the glass. They were beautifully thick panes, clear as the seas far below the floating islands of Dalaran and bespelled against thieves and breakage. Lyra watched him a moment before picking out yet another flower on her embroidery hoop. He had rattled on to her about some of the traps nobility put in their homes to stop thieves enough that she had asked him to inspect the renovations on her townhouse himself. Always eager to show off, he had accepted, though she knew as well as he that his timing of the visit was quite deliberate.

It had taken Lyra several weeks of jumping through the hoops of bureaucracy to reestablish her identity as the owner of the townhouse in Dalaran. Caemil had obscured her past in all manner of inconvenient ways, including having many of the official documents detailing who she was destroyed. It was only thanks to Tyr’s contacts and Alv’s tendency to loom over anyone who gave her trouble that she had finally been able to obtain the deed to the home in question. The distant cousin that stood to inherit the entire Lightsworn fortune had been rather put out to discover that she was still alive and well, but had begrudgingly parted with the property after it had been pointed out to him that he would likely lose in court if they were to bring it to arbitration. After that, it had been a simple matter of cleaning away the cobwebs and facing the memories that echoed throughout the emptied home. 

And discovering the secrets that had been hidden there all along, like the one she intended on discussing with Sevarith once he arrived.

“He was madder than a spitting cat when I told him you wanted a private talk.” He rapped again, frowning, leaning closer to the window. “Say, how much did you pay these yokels that magicked your glass? I think they may have cheated you.”

“If they did, tell me how and by how much so I may extract my coin out of their flesh as needed.” She replied serenely, taking another stitch as flowers blossomed in bright threaded colors under her fingers. They looked at one another with amusement, knowing that while she might have a polite word with those that swindled her, he’d likely have his own way of ensuring she got back what was owed and then some. The renovations and move from the house in Stormwind had been completed easily enough, the vast majority of her accrued fortune pouring into the hands of the workmen who had worked around the clock to complete it quickly. Though her coffers were much lighter from the endeavor, her business was still turning a large profit thanks to the generosity of her patrons. Satisfied, they both turned back to their tasks until a whoosh of shadow magic interrupted them minutes later.

It came as no shock to Lyra that Sev managed to get into her home without a single spell or alarm being triggered. Tyr was a master class thief in his own right, but his lover was on an entirely different level. She hid her smile by leaning close to her embroidery to inspect it as Tyr bounded over to give his taller, silent partner an exuberant hello that he received with a quiet grunt. She was pleased to see them together. How different they all were, she thought to herself, neatly marking the spot in her work with her needle as she stood to greet the new arrival herself. Tyr and Alv were the complete opposites of the somber, deadly silent, and serious Sevarith, and yet he tolerated and loved them in his own way all the same.

“Hello, Sev. It is good to see you again.” He nodded curtly, once and pulled the mask away from his face. She studied him a moment, seeing the similar features he shared with his brother in the high cheekbones and sharp jaw, though the somber expression he wore was all his own. Some unfamiliar with him would think he was expressionless, but after months of his all too often silent companionship, she saw the humor and love for his pirate tucked in the corner of his eyes and edge of his mouth.

“This one said you needed to talk.” He jerked his thumb at Tyr, who bit at it playfully before returning to his windows.

“Yes, about something exceptionally important.” She replied, looking at Tyr. He ignored them both, though she had pressed upon him several times the importance of this being a private conversation with Sev. “Darling, stop knocking at windows and get going. I’ll return your lover to you unscathed within an hour or two.”

“Sev, when you get the chance, look at her windows, eh?” Tyr ignored her, like he normally did when she asked him to do something he didn’t want to. Last time it had been when she tried to teach him how to read. “Something’s off about the enchantments.”

“Scat.” The tone of Sev’s voice booked no argument, though there was a hint of exasperated humor there as well. Tyr turned and bowed elegantly to the pair before vanishing out of sight, stomping loudly across the wooden floors to prove he was going. Lyra and Sev stared at each other, showing amusement in their own ways, as he went.

“And no listening at keyholes, love, it’s demeaning!” Lyra called after him, grinning when she heard the front door slam. She raised a quizzical brow at Sev, brushing one of her grey curls away from her face. “Do you think he actually left?”

“Doubtful.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the open arch that led into the study. He was a grizzled sight against the simple elegance of her newly renovated home. “This about my brother again?” She shook her head quickly, and folded her hands neatly before her, regarding him from across the room.

“No, this has nothing to do with Alvenyr. This is pure business.” Sev went completely still, his eyes twitching as they narrowed at her. The house was entirely silent as she waited patiently for his response, knowing she had surprised him. He uncrossed his arms and shoved away from the doorframe, looming over her. His footsteps, unlike Tyr’s, were completely silent as they carried him across the polished wooden floors and soft, downy carpets. How such a tall man would move without sound was a mystery to her, and one she hoped he would teach her in the coming days.

“When we met, you said we wouldn’t have a problem so long as my business never landed at your doorstep.” His gravelly voice was more deadly than she had ever heard it. Even though she had prepared herself for a negative reaction from him, nothing prepared her for the icy chill that ran up her spine at the tone of his voice. “Still want a pet thief after all then, Lyra?”

“No, Sevarith, I merely want an introduction to those you work with here in Dalaran. And before you try to deny it, we both know that lies between allies can often cause lingering trouble.” She stared up into his golden eyes, trying to sound fearless. Her voice shook slightly as it did in times of stress and tension, though she was not as afraid of him as she should have been. “Perhaps it would be best if I showed you rather than told you the reason why I ask this of you.”

“Could leave right now and be done with it.” He replied gruffly, crossing his arms again. She smiled crookedly as she stepped around him and made her way into the study. As always, he smelled of cigarettes and leather, with a faint acrid bite emanating from his weapons. It pleased her to see he had worn one of the shirts she had made for him, the soft, seemingly worn fabric concealing his weapons far better than the clothing he had worn previously. Even the flattest of blades showed under that shoddy workmanship, she thought with a contemptuous sniff. The polished wood panels of the study pleased her as she entered, Sev’s cigarettes and leather dispelled by the heady scent of the roses her maid had placed on her desk earlier.

“You could leave, but you won’t because you’re as curious as one of those many cats you keep as to why I asked this of you.” She stood on her tiptoes before one of the newly filled bookcases and pulled several leather bound tomes on ancient quel’dorei law forward, fumbling for the latch hidden behind them. Sev turned to watch her, a tiny wrinkle forming between his brows when he heard the faint click of a door opening.

“Door hidden in a bookcase? Really?” There was a hint of amused scorn there, but he joined her as she swung the case open to reveal a hidden staircase that led below. A faint chill rose from the stone steps that curved into the darkness, but were soon lit by her snapping her fingers twice. The sound was amplified as it echoed down the spiral staircase, crystal sconces flickering to life in the wake of the spell trigger. A neat bit of magic, though enchantments lay heavily upon the rest of the corridor to prevent any other sounds from escaping from the depths. She smiled wryly up at her companion before lifting her skirts and beginning to descend into the passage.

“It wasn’t my idea. You might thank my late father-in-law for this, really. It was he who had these installed for me to find, though something tells me you and your compatriots will already be intimately familiar with what I’m about to show you.” Despite the stairway being hewn of stone, her voice did not echo, nor did the door closing behind them as Sev followed her into the depths. “The family always wondered, you know, about how he made his fortune so quickly. Caemil knew about his father’s side ventures, but Lanthon was rather ignorant of it all, even after he had been made heir.” She sniffed, snapping her fingers twice again when she reached the ground floor of the vast chamber bisected by a channel of running water beneath her house. More crystal lights flickered brightly, revealing a dusty, dirty room with several doors decorated with stylized ravens leading elsewhere. Great stonework arches rose above them, hanging thickly with cobwebs and tattered banners that shifted in the faint air currents above them. Sev said nothing as she spoke, but then again she didn’t expect him to. Judging by the hint of a smirk tucked in the corner of his mouth, she knew he was intimately familiar with this room, though it might have been the first time he had ever entered it from that particular entrance.

“My father-in-law dealt in the black market. Caemil’s accounts were rather explicit in detailing the profits he made running magical items from here to the Horde and the Alliance.” Lyra swiped a finger along one of the rotting wood rails, rubbing the greasy dust between her fingers. A bat squeaked as it swooped above them before disappearing through one of the round doors that led to the sewers. “Judging by the look of it, you’ve been here before.”

“What of it?” He replied, his voice a low growl. Lyra tutted him and wiped her dirty hand on a clean handkerchief before tucking it up her sleeve.

“You of all people should know I don’t judge, darling.” She replied patiently. Gesturing broadly at the vast underground chamber, she grinned at him. “Wouldn't it be lovely if the Uncrowned was able to reestablish one of its safe houses to its former glory?” 

Now he did frown at her, and severely so. He flipped a dagger out of his shirt so fast she barely comprehended it and threw it, narrowly missing her skirts. A hissing shriek cut short told her he had just killed a mana wraith, more than likely one corrupted by the magical runoff that seemed to muck about in the sewers of Dalaran, making her grin at him weakly. She hated the foul magical manifestations, and despite her bravado, was indefinitely glad he had killed it even if she thought for a moment he meant to turn that knife on her. He stalked passed her to retrieve his knife, a thump and splash telling her he had kicked the remains into the deep channel that cut through the center of the room to carry it away.

“You don't know what you’re asking.” He replied gruffly, wiping the knife off and sheathing it. Lyra turned to him, crossing her arms. “The Uncrowned isn’t a game.”

“Neither is the Twilight’s Hammer, and yet…” She trailed off, her soft voice as she rubbed her left forearm. The cursed wound had left a nasty scar that still ached at times, though she never let on that it did. But Sev, the all too perceptive Sev, honed in on that detail immediately. He grunted, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

“Explain.” Her heart leapt in her throat as she tried not to grin at him. He wasn’t open to the idea yet, but he was at least giving her a chance to explain. Taking a breath, she launched into the explanation she had rehearsed to herself several times in order to make it sound convincing.

“One, I’m technically already involved with whatever shady dealings you lot have going on. Don’t even bother to try to deny it, because I’ve caught Tyr smuggling things in and out of the house in Stormwind several times. He did it on purpose, I know, to test the waters to see if I was comfortable with him possibly using my home as a place to keep his nefariously obtained ‘shinies’. It occurred enough to make me wonder how often he had used it without my knowledge.” The tiny sparkle of mischief in Sev’s eye told her that Tyr had smuggled stolen goods in and out of her home without her knowing more often than she had guessed. Acknowledging it with a rueful grin, she continued, beginning to pace before him as she counted the reasons on her hand. Her heavy silk skirts hissed softly against the stone beneath her feet.

“Two, the company I keep is enough to raise eyebrows as it is. Several pirates, a demon hunter, a Horde bear druid who insists she’s anything but a mercenary although her clothing shows otherwise, multiple death knights, ren’dorei of all kinds, sin’dorei fire mages-” She stopped when he raised a finger from one of his crossed forearms.

“Several pirates?” He inquired, his voice hard. She faced him squarely and put her hands on her hips, tapping her toe. It was a stance that never failed to spark a mischievous smirk from his brother, and it tickled her to see Sev have the opposite reaction when he merely rolled his eyes.

“Tyr didn’t introduce me to them,” she replied irritably, “So don’t go yelling at him. I met them on my own.” He nodded, lowering the finger and shrugged at her to continue. She sniffed, continuing her litany and pacing, ignoring the dust and dirt that gathered on the hem of her dress. “Three, additional protection. The Twilight’s Hammer attacked me recently, in my own home, and if it wasn’t for Tevruden who knows what would have happened.” The thought of the cracked gnomish warlock and her tall, silent companion that practically dripped in void corruption made her wince. “Not only would the Uncrowned be protecting me, but I would be protecting them and their interests by acting as a front of their comings and goings. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that there are certain shops in Dalaran where the ravens tend to flock, because I have. You’d have yet another access point, and safe house, through me.” Sev huffed.

“Pocket rogues,” he muttered, pulling his cigarettes out. He didn’t pull one out, but tapped the pack several times against his palm, watching her. 

“Four, it would be a business opportunity.” She whirled as she paced, gesturing as she listed the benefits. “The Uncrowned would have access to me as a tailor, and I would do my best to provide for them as needed. Cloaks, shirts, gear like yours…” She grinned at him when he snorted. “Oh don’t tell me no one has noticed the quality of your wardrobe go up, Sev. It would be insulting to both of us.” He lit one of his cigarettes and inhaled, his eyes sparkling. Someone had noticed, and had said something, Lyra thought smugly, someone high up in the order. “Whoever it is you work with would have a master tailor at their disposal around my regular commission work, as well as a respectable, innocent front to hide their comings and goings.”

“Innocent?” There was a hint of mirth in the corner of his eyes. He was laughing at her, though silently. She bared her teeth at him in an approximation of a grin in response as he took a drag at his cigarette to cover what could have been a smile of his own. The smoke coiled from the lit end to hover in the arched stonework above them before being whisked away by unseen ventilation. She made a note to have her imps thoroughly map the place for her, and continued.

“Innocent enough for the common civilians of the fine, proud city of Dalaran. Who would ever suspect a poor, widowed, childless woman who does nothing but make dresses all day?” She shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “It would benefit me as well. I’d have more direct access to the black market and Madams Goya and Gesu."

“You already know ‘em,” he pointed out, flicking his cigarette ash into the running water beside him. She didn’t bother denying it, considering both women had commissioned her for gowns not two weeks past. They had sat down for tea several fittings later and had a discussion about business much like the one she was having with Sev now. Sev’s mentioning it was all the confirmation she needed that he was aware of that connection.

“The finest silks, laces, and other crafting materials that can be found on any market pass through those two.” She replied, thinking of the magnificent bolts of silk she had been given to craft their dresses. It had been finer than anything she herself could weave or purchase on the regular markets, telling her it had been hand crafted by artisans far superior in skill to her, though both Pandaren had been mum on who those artisans were. “It behooves me to get to know those that supply the best, so that I may in turn also supply the best.”

“No small amount of money involved, too.” Sev spat a flake of tobacco from his lips into the water, eyeing her. She cocked her head to the side, giving him her politest smile.

“I have noticed, for all your and Alv’s attempts at hiding it, that the pair of you have perfect grammar.” He stilled, his cigarette dangling from his lips. “The few times Alv has written to me, he also has impeccable penmanship. And he certainly has enough book learning for the pair of you... Why is that, Sev?” Seeing him standing there unmoving, she shrugged. Had he meant to kill her for that revelation, he would have done it already. She spoke slowly, barely above a whisper. “Money doesn’t always matter to those who grew up accustomed to it, but for others like myself, it can be everything.”

He muttered something, a curse maybe, as he tossed his cigarette into the water and side eyed her. Another mana wraith hissed from one of the tunnels before gliding away when he kicked a loose stone toward it.

“You talk to lover boy about this?” His voice was a low growl. She was on dangerous ground with him, and they both knew it. His and Alv’s past were not up for discussion.

“No,” her voice was a raspy whisper. “Alvenyr has not discussed the details of his past with me… Not yet. Though, not because he doesn’t trust me, I think, but more because it is painful for him.” She hesitated, looking away hoping Sev wouldn’t see her disquiet, but knowing he’d notice it all the same. “I won’t push where I’m not welcome, even if I do wonder sometimes.” The silence between them stretched on for ages before he broke it with a sigh.

“Been meaning to talk to you about that, anyhow.” Much to her shock, it was his turn to speak. He shifted slightly, drawing her attention back to him. The expression on his face confused her as he continued. “You didn’t have to stick with that pain in the ass, but you did. Never thought I’d see that side of my brother again, but…” He shook his head, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting her shocked gaze squarely. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, Sev. It is I who should be thanking you, for introducing us.” She stammered out, completely aghast. This was not what she had expected when she had invited the irritable man to her home! Lyra regained her composure, and offered him a tiny smile before asking, “Is it really so noticeable? His being with me?” Sev snorted and offered her a faint grin. It lit up his face, and for a moment, she could truly see the resemblance between him and his all too chaotic older brother. It softened her heart to the inscrutable man. Tyr was a very lucky man, just as she considered herself inordinately fortunate to have Alv by her side.

“It is.” He didn’t elaborate, though she didn’t expect him to. Sev would never say anything more than necessary, which made her treasure his thanks all the more. He raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking, “Anything else?”

“There is one more thing, possibly the greatest reason of them all for you to assist me in this venture, Sevarith.” Lyra steeled herself, knowing her other reasons had been nothing compared to the bombshell she was about to drop on him. She spread her hands where he could see them, to show she drew on no void energies as she said,

“The final reason why you should help me in this, is that it would keep Tyr closer to home.”

Sev was absolutely still now, barely breathing as he stared at her. She returned his gaze, keeping her hands spread to show she was still unarmed, still not a threat. Sev, like her, had a weak point where his lover was concerned. Any unwanted attention in that direction would lead to death, or at the very least a horrible maiming.

“Don’t.” He breathed. Had it not been so silent in the chamber, she wouldn’t have heard him.

“He might be your lover, Sev, but he is also my friend.” Her voice was gentle with understanding. “I worry about him, too, when he is off in the great wide world. All too often he comes bounding into my home after another scrape with the guards, or wickedly dangerous adventure, or an excursion with those friends of his bragging about his latest brush with disaster. We both know he loves it, lives for it even, and yet…” She let out a sigh and lowered her hands, keeping them where he could see them. “I would protect him in as many ways as I can, Sev. This gives us another way to keep him safe, whether he realizes it or not.”

Her hands were shaking, from more than just the chill of the damp stone room. Sev, she knew after careful questioning with Alv and Tyr, was an assassin. Her own brushes with him made every instinct she had scream predator. And yet for all his deadly grace, for all his skill, he did have a weak spot, just as she did. He would do anything to protect the love of his life, just as she would do anything to protect those she loved in return. 

“I’ll think about it.” His gravelly voice was harsher than normal. She nodded, completely serious. 

“That is all I ask.” Her grin was shaky as she turned away and began walking up the tight, spiral staircase again. “Shall I send Tyr down to you, then? I’m sure he’s tired of pouting by now.”

“Nah, I’ll come up.” Sev followed her, his footfalls completely silent against the stone. “Lyra.”

“Yes?” She turned, already several steps up. His face was completely serious as he said,

“This could mean a knife in the back someday, your body washing up in the gutters to be rat food.” Slowly, so he could move away if he chose, she reached out and lightly touched his cheek. Much to her shock, he allowed it for a brief second before jerking his head away, touch shy.

“Well then, we’ll just have to ensure that those window enchanters didn’t screw me out of my hard earned gold, won’t we?” She replied, her face ladened with deadly calm. Their eyes met in perfect understanding, his golden, hers grey and void touched, before they continued up the stairs to see what mischief Tyr had gotten up to in their absence.


End file.
